I've spent a lot of time reassuring people that I'm not dead, heh. Most particularly, my family back in Pittsburgh, who are understandably worried. My mom even offered to fly in for my neurologist appointment, but that's probably not going to happen due to work-like things (when you're the VP of a company, they kinda expect you to be around, heh). But she does want to talk on the phone to the neurologist, which shouldn't be hard to arrange.
I got a lot of hugs at work this morning- two from my boss!- and the guy from NY State who'd been arranging for me to go to Ogdensburg even called to ask how I was doing! Happily, I am nowhere near Ogdensburg like I should've been at this point, and unabashedly, I have my seizure to thank for it. Sadly, though, I can't drive for another five months, twenty-odd days. I already miss driving. =/ We got my car washed today, and he looks all nice and shiny and is practically begging, "Mommy, drive me!"
Apparently, my students from Friday gave me bad teaching evaluations- and my boss was pissed at them, lol! I guess that getting wheeled past the classroom on a guerney did nothing for garnering sympathy points. ;) But I don't remember any of that. I must say, I wasn't afraid of dying before, but I'm even less afraid of dying now. I didn't feel a darn thing- I just remember saying I felt like crap and then waking up in the ambulance who-knows-when later. From what I understand, dying is like sleeping in on Saturday morning. Who isn't down with that?